Her tale has only begun
by Magdelope
Summary: The makings of Leliana. What was it like for her to grow up in Orlais? What was it like for her to be betrayed by Marjolaine? What are the events that had shaped Leliana's person and past that makes her eventually follow the Warden into battle? Leliana's life, will eventually be Leliana/Dorothea. Femslash.
1. Prologue

**A story I have been planning a long time, thanks goes to Narcosynthesis who has been discussing the characters with me for months. The prologue is short, the following chapters will be at a normal length. **

**And as normal I don't own any of the characters, I'm just the puppetmaster. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Sabine!" The lady called, "hurry up," the old woman lifted the puff and powdered her nose and brought the rose to her hat, but she couldn't attach it before her chambermaid brought the pins.

"Sabine!" Cecilie called again.

"Lady Cecilie," a breathless groan followed the girl's yell.

The lady stood up, despite her wobbly old knees and walked towards the constant pained moaning that was coming from the hallway.

"What is it?" She said in an irritated voice, "you know the count is expecting me and..." She turned quiet when she saw that her words would do no good. Sabine laid dead on the floor. She hadn't had a chance against the poisoned arrow that had been shot through the window and pierced her head. An arrow that had surely been meant for Lady Cecilie herself.

She kneed by the dead girl and moved some of the crimson locks out of the face.

"I'm sorry, Sabine," she whispered, "the Grand Game comes with a price. I'm sorry you had to pay it."

"Mama?" a pair of blue eyes looked at the corpse on the floor as the little red-haired toddler took a few wobbling steps towards Lady Cecilie. The old woman immidiately sprang to her feet and lifted the child up, carrying her out of the room and into the little closet that had served as bedroom for Sabine and her child; the air inside was still sweetly smelling of Andraste's Grace.

"Mama?" The child asked again and tried to struggle against Lady Cecilie's grip but the old lady held her still.

"Your mother is dead," Lady Cecilie said, even though she knew that the toddler in her arms couldn't possibly understand what she was saying.

"MAMA!" The girl bellowed and started crying, "mama, mama, mama."

"Be quiet!" Lady Cecilie eventually yelled and shook the girl softly but felt bad immidiately after and pressed the girl to her bossom.

"I'm sorry, little one," she said, "I'm sorry."

The count had to wait, Lady Cecilie spent her evening rocking the crying child in her arms, whispering constantly in her ear. The other servants eventually found Sabine but didn't even need to ask what had happened; instead they were happy that it hadn't been one of them but the Fereldan girl, the outcast.

The toddler had eventually fallen asleep in Cecilie's arms but when the old woman got up to put her down, she woke up and started fussing.

"No," Cecilie told her and the girl looked up in surprise, "I can't hold you constantly. It is time for you to be a big girl now." Cecilie was aware that the girl still didn't understand but continued to talk anyway, "You only have yourself in this world, so you need to grow up and be strong fast. Do this, Leliana, and nobody can ever hurt you."


	2. Chapter 1 - Louder than the chant

**Chapter 1 – Louder than the chant**

The first time Leliana heard a bard singing, it was purely by accident. Lady Cecilie had taken the girl to one of her meetings as usual, but always kept her close lest she be exposed to something that wasn't proper for young ladies. Bards were not proper. The topics of their songs were not proper. And the dance that occasionally accompanied their singing was _definitely _not proper.

Leliana and Lady Cecilie had been on their way home, when some other adults came to talk to Cecilie. Leliana, still very much a child, got bored quickly and started scraping in the gravel with one satin-covered shoe. That was when she heard it.

It was different compared to the boring monotone singing of the chant that Leliana had to listen to every week. It was light; varied; beautiful. Leliana couldn't help herself. She looked up at the old woman; seeing that she was still occupied with the conversation Leliana started running towards the sound. She ran past the chantry, around the corner and was met with the sight of the most beautiful woman Leliana had ever seen.

She held herself proudly; her black hair tied up in an elaborate fashion that was more suited for a much older woman. For she was young, not many years older than the 10-year-old Leliana. Her eyes still held innocence and her sweet smile laid just beneath a pair of rosy cheeks. And her voice, her voice was beautiful. She sang while playing on a lyre; the sounds creating such beauty. Leliana had never heard anything like it. She soon found herself swaying back and forth to the pretty notes.

The woman singing seemed to notice the girl after a while and nodded in her direction; smiling. Leliana returned her smile but felt herself blushing overly pleased that the woman had noticed her. She started twitching, wanting to move with the music, when a hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder and pulled her roughly backwards.

Leliana yelped in surprise and then whined as the bony hand grabbed a hold of her ear instead, pulling her through the crowd and back to their carriage which was waiting to take them back home.

Leliana tried to hide her face in her hands and prayed to some unknown God that the singing woman hadn't seen her being dragged off like a child. It was just so _embarrassing. _

Lady Cecilie was furious. She didn't want her protege to be sneaking off and she definitely didn't want Leliana around bards. It was not a profession that she wanted for Leliana's future. The girl was the only thing resembling a child that Lady Cecilie had left. Her own sons had died in The Great War between Orlais and Ferelden and her daughter, Amelie, had married an Antivan Crow and moved to Antiva. Leliana was all she had left and over her dead body would the girl grow up to be something as despicable as a bard. Bards were generally respected, they were dangerous after all; but it was hardly something mothers wished for their daughters or sons.

But it was difficult, if not impossible, to make a lady out of a bastard child. A bastard Ferelden child with no last name. Lady Cecilie couldn't even remember what Sabine's last name had been. This made it difficult to introduce Leliana to the right circles in society. A child with no title and no last name.

Lady Cecilie was at a cross roads. Either she made Leliana move to one of the local homes for orphans or she kept her as a maid. The lady hadn't had a proper chambermaid since Sabine had died. But Lady Cecilie was old and Leliana was a spoiled, fun-loving child. It would take a lot to train her; energy that Lady Cecilie did not have anymore. Time was ticking and the old woman didn't want her to die without having some form of plan for Leliana's future. She did care for the girl after all.

Right at this moment the darling girl was sulking, angry tears were dripping from the tip of her nose and one of her hands was angrily tugging at the green silk that was tied around her long braids.

"Don't pout, my darling," Lady Cecilie said, "you should be happy I'm not harsher. You know how I feel about bards and minstrels."

"Yes, madame," Leliana said and tried to look happy; straightening her posture and wiping her tears with her handkerchief.

"I'm sorry," she said after a while. Lady Cecilie smiled gracefully and touched Leliana's hand briefly.

"It's alright, child," she said, "I was young once too."

They remained silent for the rest of the way.

When they arrived at the manor, Lady Cecilie sent Leliana up to her room to take a bath and wash the grime from the streets off. The girl went up the stairs, passed by the closet that that been her mother's bedroom and into her own bedroom that she had had for as long as she could remember. The maid had already lit a fire and the girl was greatful for the warmth. She took her green cloak and matching silk gloves off, laying them over the chair by her desk where today's schoolwork was stacked. Leliana bit her lip when remembering that she had forgotten to practice her letters.

She pulled her heavy dress off, letting the pink fabric fall to the ground and then started working on her small clothes; eager to get into the tempting wooden tub that had been brought to her also tugged on the silk chords that held her braids in check, letting her hair flow free. She was soon sinking herself into the water, the andraste's grace scented bubbles fitting around her little body. Andraste's grace, her mother's favourite flowers, were almost impossible to find in Orlais. But oils made from the flower could be found all over Val Royeaux if you were willing to pay.

Leliana started to feel bad that she had ran off. Lady Cecilie was usually so good to her; the least Leliana could be was obediant to the Lady's wishes. Leliana was very aware of what a burden she was in some ways. The girl knew that she had no mother or father, no last name. Not even a future. She didn't go to school like the other girls her age; she was tutored at home. The times she had played with other girls she had noticed the difference between herself and them. They were prettier, more Orlesian, nobility, already promised to men and boys from wealthy, influential families. Leliana only had Lady Cecilie. And she was painfully aware of it.


	3. Chapter 2 - An unexpected gift

Childhood had been pleasant. Leliana had been doted on much like a beloved child and she had wanted for nothing. But as Lady Cecilie started to grow older, Leliana started becoming less like a child and more like a companion and nursemaid. It was suddenly expected of her to take care of the old woman, in ways that she hadn't been expecting. But she was a fast learner even though it hurt her to see the lady become more and more forgetful and confused. More than once the old woman had called her 'Sabine' and asked her to get water or something else. It confused Leliana greatly as she didn't know who this 'Sabine' was.

As she was getting ready for the events of the evening Leliana fought against the childlish fury that rose in her chest when she found out that Lady Cecilie was going to have one of her gatherings on Leliana's birthday. It was the day she turned 13, it was supposed to be special; but instead she was going to have to sit in a corner while Lady Cecilie and her friends socialised. Leliana had no reason to be upset. It couldn't be expected of Lady Cecilie to remember her birthday.

Leliana sighed, and ignored the girl in the mirror. Instead she pulled on the blue velvet dress that the maid had put out for her but let her hair flow free. She wished that the old lady would let her cut her hair, it was down to her buttocks, but the lady was believed that long hair was best suited for little girls; forever ignoring the fact that Leliana was no longer a little girl.

Downstairs most of the guests had already arrived. Leliana knew what was expected of her and took to her chair in one of the corners. Les petits enfants devraient être vus et non pas entendus. Little children should be seen and not heard. That is what they said. Leliana was supposed to sit on a chair and watch the party; but she wasn't supposed to join in or talk. It was what was expected of Orlesian children at parties. Leliana hated it and was bored within the first ten minutes. When she had been younger, the pretty dresses, elaborate hairstyles and beautiful shoes had been enough to entertain her for hours. But she was not a little girl anymore.

Leliana craved excitement and youth. She felt trapped in this house, with an aging woman and her equally aging youngest people the girl met where the maids. She didn't know how much longer she could stand it. How much longer she could keep standing the constant, smiling, greeting, pleasing, faking, breathing, living.

The girl sometimes wondered if she was a mere extension of Lady Cecilie, so when the old lady died, so would Leliana. Lady Cecilie and her waning health was Leliana's whole life; her whole tedious, drawn out life.

Minute by minute passed. Leliana felt her smile twitch occasionally but refused to let it falter. She knew her role and played it well. It was a strange ritual, this gathering of half-lucid, aging nobility. It was as if it was a play, Leliana observed, a macabre play. Planned and executed by the servants who pushed their masters and mistresses in the right direction. It would have made Leliana laugh if she hadn't been feeling so miserable. There was something so sad about the spectacle. These people had once been some of the most influential people in Val Royeaux, but their time was over now. They just didn't know it yet. They might as well all be dead, Leliana thought.

Eventually the guests started leaving one by one. When the last count had finally left Leliana could stand up and stretch her stiff legs. Orlesian customs could be so exhausting.

"At least no bards showed up," Lady Cecilie said to no one, "I don't know what I would have done if they had." She then turned to Leliana and held out her arm.

"Be a good girl and help me up the stairs."

Leliana went and obediantely helped Lady Cecilie up the stairs, through the hallway and into her room when she sat the lady down on her bed.

"My poor old bones," Lady Cecilie groaned.

"Should I call for the maid, madame?" Leliana asked. But instead of answering Lady Cecilie looked up at her and for the first time in several months, it didn't feel like Lady Cecilie was looking right through her.

"You look a lot like you're mother," Lady Cecilie said dreamily.

"My mother?" Lady said.

"The same red hair," Lady Cecilie continued, "the same smile."

"Tell me more about my mother," Leliana said, eager to learn more during these rare moments that Lady Cecilie remembered who she was, "what was her name?"

Sadness flashed briefly in Lady Cecilie's eyes, she reached up and gripped Leliana's wrist.

"I… I don't remember," the recognizing gleam was slowly disappearing."She would tell you stories."

"Stories, madame?"

"So many stories. When you were little it was the only thing that would calm you. I would walk by her room, your room, and I would hear her voice, telling you stories all night long."

The girl didn't know what to do. Lady Cecilie wasn't acting normal at all and the grip she had on Leliana's wrist was on the verge of being painful.

"Madame," Leliana tried, "would you let go of me please?"

Lady Cecilie looked down in confusion at their adjoining hands.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice quivering as she let go, "I don't know what happened."

Leliana smiled sweetly.

"Don't worry, madame," she said, "you're just tired, yes? Yes, of course. The party and everything has drained you."

The girl didn't bother calling for a maid. Instead she helped Lady Cecilie out of her dress and under her cover. Leliana even managed to light the fireplace without burning her fingers.

"What's happening to me?" Lady Cecilie asked out loud just as Leliana was about to leave, thinking that the old lady had fallen asleep. She turned back and looked at the woman who had once stood proud. She looked beaten, defeated and her eyes were filled with fear. It was sad that she was just lucid enough to realise that something was very wrong. Leliana found herself feeling sorry for her, remembering all the times that the lady had taken care of her when she had been ill.

"Don't worry about that," Leliana said, walking back to Lady Cecilie's bed, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to the old woman's cheek.

"Sleep now," she said, "you will feel better tomorrow."

Lady Cecilie nodded, yawned like a child and then closed her eyes. Leliana sighed, feeling strange at the sudden reversed roles. She started walking towards the door again when a small package caught her eye.

It was a plain brown box that could have been anything if it hadn't been adorned with big blue letters on top. For Leliana it said. Lady Cecilie hadn't forgotten! Leliana looked back at the bed, a faint snoring could be heard from it. Leliana picked up the small package and quickly, but silently, exited the room.

She went into her own bedroom and sat down on the floor with her back to the closed door. She took out the package and eyed it curiously.

For Leliana it said. Surely that meant that it wouldn't be wrong for Leliana to open it? She quickly lifted the lid.

Inside on a small piece of cloth laid a small bird of silver with amber eyes and feathers. It was very small, not bigger than Leliana's thumb and was attached to a very light silver chain. Leliana picked it up, revelling at how featherlight it was.

It was a nightingale. Leliana knew what they looked like and this bird looked exactly like one. On the back of the bird she could feel that the silver wasn't completely smooth, she turned it around. It was engraved on the backside, Sabine it said. Leliana put two and two together and realised that that was her mother's name. And this must have been her mother's necklace. How Lady Cecilie had gotten hold of it, Leliana would probably never know, but at this moment she was just grateful of the small piece of history she was now holding in her hand. She hung the nightingale around her neck, finding comfort in the cool metal against her skin.

The girl could sense that things were about to change. Outside a storm was brewing, making the shutters and windows rattle in the wind. It was the wind of change and it was going to change everything.


	4. Chapter 3 - Shattering her future

Lady Cecilie's condition quickly deteriorated and the situation was one day untenable. It was clear that the old woman was close to death and no longer fit to run a household. The servants had grown lazy, some of them had even left. Nobody was caring for Lady Cecilie's fortune and Leliana had resorted to selling the old lady's jewellery just to feed them and to pay the remaining servants.

Leliana was nervous about meeting Lady Cecilie's daughter. Surely she had met her sometime as an infant but it was not a person she remembered and even though Leliana hoped that it would be like meeting a sister but even she was not that naive. The girl was also relieved that she would no longer have to shoulder the responsibility of taking care of the household. Amalie Ancelet, wife of Luis Ancelet and daughter of Lady Cecilie arrived a few months before Leliana's fourteenth birthday. With her, Amalie brough her only daughter, a seven-year-old girl called Aisha.

At first Amalie barely seemed to notice Leliana. She just walked around, checking the state of the estate, pulling Aisha behind her and muttering that it was too dusty and unkept. At first it seemed as if Amalie thought that Leliana was simply a well-dressed servant but it finally dawned to her who the girl was when Leliana joined them for dinner in the grand hall.

"So you are Leliana?" Amalie asked her while they were all sitting around the table.

"Yes, madame," Leliana said, "Lady Cecilie has been very gracious and…"

"My mother," Amalie interrupted, "has not been of sound mind for many years."

Leliana swallowed back tears and leaned down to pick up the napkin that had fallen off her lap and onto the floor.

"I'm very grateful," she whispered. She didn't know what else to say.

"I would have put you in the poorhouse," Amalie continued, "and so would my husband have."

"Mama!" The little girl next to her suddenly said, "don't be mean."

Amalie looked at her daughter in silence and then nodded.

"Fine," she said and then smiled for the first time since arriving in Orlais, "my Aisha keeps me in check." Then she turned back to Leliana again.

"I'm sorry," she said, "her voice more gentle, "I'm upset that my mother is ill. I mean no offence."

Leliana nodded again.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, Aisha finishing first and then started to hum and wave her legs under the table. She had apparently not been raised Orlesian and with the ideas of Les petits enfants devraient être vus et non pas entendus. Amalie looked both irritated and embarrassed but Leliana found it refreshing.

"Be quiet at the table," Amalie eventually said to her daughter.

"Do you have any mangoes?" Aisha suddenly asked Leliana. The girl wasn't even sure what mangoes were but knew that they were definitely not native to Orlais and they did not have any.

"Sorry, mademoiselle," Leliana said, "we don't have any."

"Of course you don't," Amalie said, "but you have pears, yes? Please tell me you have some. I've been telling Aisha about Orlesian pears all her life."

Leliana affirmed that they did have pears in the kitchen and went to get some. There weren't enough servants left to do such a trivial thing but Leliana didn't mind. It gave her something to do instead of just sitting awkwardly and looking at Amalie and Aisha. Orlesian pears were incredibly sweet and famous all over Thedas but only native to a small region in southern Orlais. Leliana understood that Amalie wanted her daughter to taste them.

Lelinana put them in a small bowl and started walking towards the grand hall again when she heard the mother and daughter talking. The girl smiled when she heard what Aisha said.

"Next time we visit grandmama and Leliana, I'll bring some mangoes for her. I bet she would love them." Amalie's reply made Leliana's blood run cold.

"That's sweet of you, Aisha, but I doubt that we will meet Leliana again. Grandmama is very ill and we are going to take her back to Antiva with us where we can take care of her."

"What about Leliana?" Aisha asked.

"She can't come with us, darling," Amalie replied, "I don't know what is going to happen with her. But there are nice homes for girls like her… oh darling, don't pout, she'll…" Amalie was interuppted by the loud bang that was caused by Leliana dropping the bowl of pears.

Amalie rushed to her side and gasped when she saw the shards on the floor.

"Stop," she yelled at the girl, "you'll cut yourself." But it was too late, Leliana was crying and shaking and her fingers lacked her usual dexterity.

"Mama, she's bleeding," Aisha squeeled. Amalie sighed.

"Get a maid," Amalie said to her daughter. She then grasped Leliana's hand with surprising gentleness, inspecting the cut. There was a steady bloodflood from it, dripping onto the floor.

"It's deep," Amalie sighed again, "did you drop it because you heard what I said?"

Leliana nodded, trying hard not to sob but unable to stop the silent tears from painting wet trails down her cheeks.

"I'm not a bad person," Amalie said, steadying the girl, "but there is no room for an unmarried girl in my house. I have all the maids that I need."

"I'm not a maid!" Leliana snapped. Amalie sighed.

"If your mother was still alive that is what she would train you to be I imagine. You're not nobility. It doesn't matter how pretty your dress is or how much you polish and preen your feathers. Your blood remains the same."

Leliana tried to listen to her words. To see what she knew to be reason. But she couldn't help it. Amalie's words hurt her.

"What will happen to me?" Leliana asked silently.

Amalie sighed again. She wasn't a bad person but the thought of bringing this pretty, unmarried, virginal, thing home made her nervous. It was difficult enough to keep her husband's interest as it was.

A servant came and started cleaning and picking up the broken shards.

"Come here," Amalie said and with surprising gentleness guided Leliana to the kitchen where she took out some cloth, water and light bandages. Then she proceeded by cleaning the cuts on Leliana's hand while the girl wined and bit her lip at the stinging sensation when the water hit her flesh.

"I have contacted Madame Soisson's home for underprivileged girls," Amalie suddenly said, "they have a bed ready for you from Thursday."

Leliana gasped. A home for underprivileged girls! How could that be possible? Surely she did not belong there?

"I'm not an underprivileged girl!" she exclaimed, "I'm not…" her mind was flooded with her vision of the underprivileged girl. Unwashed, hollow eyed, ugly clothes and shoes. Begging. Some of them doing things for gold that Leliana didn't even dare to think about. She felt herself falling, no control over her life.

"Lady Cecilie would never do that to me," she eventually tried but her voice was weak.

Amalie dropped the cloth on the table and pulled Leliana to her feet again.

"It's not up for the discussion," Lady Cecilie's daughter said, "and that's that."


	5. Chapter 4 - Premonitions of a new life

It was a gloomy afternoon when Lelina stepped down from the carriage, clutching her bag in one hand. She felt so small standing in front of the big grey doors. She felt the hairs on her neck stand up when she heard the carriage behind her move on. The hoofbeats went further and further away. Leliana wanted to cry. She was all alone now.

Lady Cecilie hadn't remembered who Leliana was when the girl came to say good bye.

"Sabine," the old woman had said, "why are you crying?" Leliana hadn't replied but just hugged her hard and not cared that tears were falling.

Aisha, Amalie's daughter, had hugged Leliana fiercly and promised to write but Leliana could see from Amalie's facial expression that she shouldn't hold her breath. No letters would come from her.

Bon Bon had gotten a kiss good bye from Leliana; she would even miss that stupid dog. Then she had grabbed her bag which was packed with her clothes, a few toys and some of her favourite story books. Her whole life gathered in one bag.

Now she was standing in front of a big grey unwelcoming stone building. But Leliana refused to be scared, she gripped a tighter hold of her bag and went up the small stairs which led to the door and knocked.

…

"Breakfast and supper are served daily; any food outside of these times you need to procure yourself." Madame Moodlier, the matron, talked constantly while guiding Leliana through the building.

"We expect good behaviour and for all of our girls to spend their time productively. Laziness and idleness are not tolerated in any form."

Leliana wrinkled her nose at the rather putrid smell that lingered in the corridor as they walked passed the washrooms. She clutched her bag tighter. Madame Moodlier shook her head when she saw Leliana's reaction.

"You better rid yourself of that attitude of yours," she glanced at Leliana's bag, "and I hope you are not too attached to your belongings. They will be sold at the market in Val Royeaux."

Leliana gasped.

"But they are mine!"

"Pfft," Madame Moodlier scoffed, "how do you think we feed you? We live on donations and whatever our girls bring in."

It was sheer willpower that kept Leliana from breaking down in tears as the woman started picking at her things once they had arrived in Leliana's new bedroom; a bedroom that she was supposed to share with fifteen other girls. Madame Moodlier was handling her dresses and even some of her fancier small clothes in a way that made Leliana feel violated. The woman's dirty fingers stained the pearly white fabric of her small clothes and she almost tore the velvet on Leliana's favourite dress.

After spreading all of Leliana's belongings on the bed, the matron turned to a chest of drawers nearby and pulled out a ghastly brown dress made out of rough cloth and threw it at the girl.

"Take those pretty clothes off," she said, "put this on instead."

Leliana didn't want to undress. Several other girls of different ages had come into the room, curious at the newcomer. Some of them were giggling, whispering and pointing at Leliana's pretty things. The girl felt quite exposed with her clothes on but started slowly picking at her silk covered buttons with quivering fingers. She sighed in relief when she wasn't expected to remove her small clothes and she quickly reached out for the boring dress, ignoring how the girls were laughing at her frilly underwear.

The fabric was rough and scratched her skin. Leliana almost panicked at the thought that she would never get to wear anything fancier than this sack of a dress.

"Your necklace as well," the matron snapped her fingers, waking the girl up from her thoughts, and held out her open hand at Leliana.

"What?" Leliana said and closed her palm around the nightingale that she always wore. "No."

"What do you mean no?" Madame Moodlier said and bore her eyes into Leliana, "stop your silliness, girl. Give it to me now."

Leliana swallowed the lump of tears that were forming in her throat. She reached under her hair and pressed on the clasp. She resisted the sudden want to kiss the little bird and instead placed it in the matron's open hand. Madame Moodlier immediately closed her hand around the bird and put it in the little pouch that hung on her belt.

She then proceeded to bark to one of the girls to bring her a sack. A girl who had been watched but never laughed at Leliana nodded and then went out of the room. She came back only moments later and handed it to the matron while giving Leliana a rather apologetic smile.

Leliana whimpered as Madame Moodlier started pressing Leliana's belongings into the sack. She left some of the girl's less fancy small clothes and a toy horse that Leliana had had her whole life. Then she lifted the sack up and left the room, taking the horde of giggling girls with her. The girl who hadn't laughed stayed behind but Leliana was too upset to notice. She was just relieved at being somewhat alone. She sat down on the cot that would now be her bed, clutched her toy horse to her chest. She let her tears finally fall and started sobbing uncontrollable.

"It does get better," a voice made her look up.

"I was scared in the beginning," the girl continued, "she sold all my clothes. All my jewellery. My necklace, my bracelets and my footring." Leliana rose one eyebrow. Nobody she knew wore that much jewellery, nothing more than tasteful chains, medallions, rings etc. Leliana had to admit however that all that gold would have looked rather spectacular against the girl's dark skin.

"My father is from Rivian," the girl explained when she saw Leliana's puzzled expression, "in Rivian everyone wears a lot of jewellery."

"Where are your parents?" Leliana asked.

"I've never had a mother," the girl said plainly, "papa did his best I suppose but he… he got himself incarcerated by the empress while we were in Val Royeaux for a short visit and I was sent here."

"Your father is not dead?"

The girl laughed.

"Papa might be special but he is not stupid. I hear that my mother once likened him to a cockroach. Nothing can kill him."

Leliana just stared. She had never met anybody so outspoken. She suddenly noticed that she had stopped crying and she put the wooden horse down.

"I'm Harissa," the girl said, "but everyone calls me Harry so you can call me that too if you like."

"I'm Leliana."

…

The first weeks were very shaky for Leliana. She learned the meal times and sleep times. The girls were expected to attend the chantry every single day and when not in the tedious house of the maker they were supposed to attend to a number of different chores including selling vegetables at the market, working in the chantry gardens or learn skills. It wasn't schooling, not really and Leliana noticed to her distress and surprise that most of the girls couldn't even read. Not even her new friend Harry.

Harry was the only source of light in Leliana's world. Picking her up when she fell. Holding her when she cried and joking and laughing with her until she stopped crying. Leliana had almost started to feel content with her new life.

That was when she met Marjolaine.


	6. Chapter 5 - A fateful meeting

**Just a short little update because I'm not feeling too well. Hope you enjoy it anyway. :)**

* * *

The second time Leliana saw a bard it was not by accident. She had and Harry had been in the home for almost a year now and were deemed senior enough to handle the vegetablestand in the market by themselves. Harry had been sighing over the blacksmith's boy who was selling weapons in the stand next to them. Leliana had giggled at her friend's silliness and tried to focus fully on the people who came and went as Harry was too distracted to be of any help.

That was when a lonely woman came walking through the market. Leliana didn't even recognize the bard she had seen as a child because she was so focused on the glistening green fabric of the woman's dress. The girl felt her fingers itching to touch it. The woman, despite clearly not belonging in the Old Town market, stopped by one of the jewellery stands, eyeing the medallions.

Leliana didn't know why she did it, it was as if an invisible hand was guiding her forward. She left Harry by the vegetable stand and walked forward, wiping her hand on her own dress as she went. Then she reached out just to grace the green fabric. It was soft to the touch and clearly expensive. Leliana sighed and felt a surge of longing in her chest rise. Oh what she wouldn't give to wear such clothes again.

Before she knew what was happening she had touched her whole palm to the fabric, not noticing that she had inadvertently cupped the side of the woman's waist. The woman spun around to look at whoever had touched her. She was expecting a man or a boy, somebody young who just couldn't help but to touch a well-dressed woman. What Marjolaine wasn't expecting was the slightly guilty face of a young girl.

"I'm sor…" Leliana tried but grew silent. They stood still and looked at each other; Marjolaine's expression had gone from slightly annoyed to smiling intriguingly.

"You like my dress, little one?"

Leliana blushed and nodded.

"I'm sorry madame," she said and looked down. She didn't know what had happened, surely Lady Cecilie had raised her better than this.

Marjolaine laughed gently and touched Leliana's cheek. Leliana was surprised at the physical touch but didn't pull away.

"Don't worry," Marjolaine said, "I understand that you're drawn to my dress when you have to wear… ahem… that."

Leliana suddenly felt ashamed at her plain dress and messy hair.

"Your dress is beautiful," she replied and smiled, "I used to have one quite similar. It was my favourite."

"Oh?" Marjolaine said, "how sweet. It was a gift from my husband."

Leliana nodded, relieved that Marjolaine didn't ask why Leliana no longer wore pretty dresses.

"Leli!" Harry shouted behind her, "stop talking to the woman and come back here!"

"I'm sorry," Leliana said quietly at the older woman and then shouted back at Harry, "just wait!"

"You're name is Leli?" Marjolaine asked.

"Leliana."

"Leliana," Marjolaine said as if tasting the word, caressing each syllable, "Le-li-ana. I like it. It suits you. My name is Marjolaine."

Leliana smiled and bowed.

"Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Marjolaine said, then she looked up, "ah, there comes my dear husband. I have to take my leave."

"Oh," Leliana said, feeling disappointed that the woman was already leaving.

"Tell me, Leliana," Marjolaine said and smiled, "before I go. Is it possible to see you again?"

Leliana stopped the "why" on the lips. Of course the woman could see her again if she wanted to.

"Yes, Madame," she said, "I live.." she swallowed and then almost whispered, " at Madame Soisson's home for underprivileged girls." Leliana wanted to kick herself, she still felt ashamed that she stayed at the home.

Marjolaine noticed her unease and clicked her tongue.

"Never feel ashamed of where you come from," she said to Leliana and ran a gloved finger Leliana's eye to her chin and made the girl look up at her face, "I lived in a home like that once upon a time. And I am not ashamed."

She turned around and waved gracefully at the man who was walking towards them.

"Now go."

"Wha..?"

"Go," Marjolaine said again, not looking at Leliana again, "my husband will be angry with me if he sees me talking with you. No offence pretty thing. I'll come and look you up."

Leliana didn't reply but when Marjolaine suddenly gave her an urgent look, the girl backed a way and ran back to Harry. She had no idea what had just happened.


End file.
